


Close Encounters

by Beware_The_Ravenstag



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Episode: s02e08 The Chicago Way, Episode: s02e11 Turncoat, Episode: s02e16 Doomworld, Episode: s03e11 Here I Go Again, F/M, Growing Old Together, huddled together very close for various reasons, mild allusions to imminent offscreen sexual content, there was going to be a plus one but i didn't feel it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22660759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beware_The_Ravenstag/pseuds/Beware_The_Ravenstag
Summary: Five times Mick and Amaya were closer together than was really probably necessary
Relationships: Amaya Jiwe/Mick Rory
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Close Encounters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zaritarazi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaritarazi/gifts).



**1\. For Safety**

Amaya’s heart almost stops as someone grabs her arm and pulls her into a corner, tucked away between two sliding bay doors. For a moment she doesn’t think, only filled with blind panic. She almost grabs her assailant by the throat before she stops to see who it is. 

Mick shoves himself next to her, trapping her between himself and the corner. One arm is looped around hers- what he grabbed when he’d reached out from the corner. She can think of three ways to free herself from his grasp, including breaking his arm, but her gut tells her that he’s not a threat.

(Her gut has been doing some funny things around Mick lately, though, so maybe it’s not as reliable as she thought.)

“What are you doing?” she barks, “Capone’s men are taking over the ship-” 

Mick glances over his shoulder and puts a finger to his lips. A second later, a streak of red lightning flashes past them, followed by a gust of wind. 

His voice, quiet and gravelly, sends a tingle up her spine as he responds, “We got bigger fish to fry, honey.” 

* * *

**2\. For Warmth**

Mick shivers violently, a whole body twitch that almost looks like the beginning of a seizure. He’s wearing the rags of the American army, and like the army he’s almost certainly freezing to death. 

No one has given her fairly modern outfit a second glance- or if they have, they had the wisdom to keep it to themselves. Still, they’re on the outskirts of the camp, well away from any prying eyes 

Mick twitches again. He’s wrapped his arms around himself, and his jaw is clenched tight to keep his teeth from chattering. She’d offer her thick, woolen jacket to him if she thought it would cover even just his shoulders. 

One hand darts up and rubs at his eyes, quick as a viper. Amaya tracks the movement, and realizes with a start that he’s wiping away tears. 

He’s not just miserable, she suddenly understands. He’s terrified. 

Amaya stands up and approaches Mick, sitting on the other side of the campfire. “Take off your jacket,” she says, by way of greeting. 

Mick stares at her like she’s grown a second head. Before he can respond, she continues “For warmth. Skin to skin contact is best.”

He still looks confused and slightly fearful, so she decides to take initiative. Placing a hand on her totem, she accesses the deadly tranquility that allows her to use it. 

_ Something warm,  _ she thinks,  _ something that can make him feel safe.  _

She feels snow in her eyes, ice in her paws, wind whistling through her fur. Strength from years of hauling seals from the depths fills her body, intoxicating her with the raw power she has at her command. Apex predators always do this to her - make her feel wild and untamable. But she separates herself from the animal; not ignoring it, but not letting it control her either. 

She climbs into his lap. He attempts to push her off, but she stills him with a look. “Calm down,” she says into his ear. “Trust me.” She wraps her arms under the pile of rags disguised as a jacket and envelops him in a literal bear hug. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Mick relaxes into the heat of her body, which burns like a furnace. He doesn’t nestle his face into her shoulder, and Amaya realizes with some chagrin that she’s actually disappointed by that. 

_ Fuck. _

* * *

**3\. For Transportation**

Amaya never considered herself claustrophobic before, but here, in the very back row of a minivan, squished between Jax and Mick, she’s considering it. 

The car hits a huge bump at full speed, sending everyone flying. 

Mick rubs his head and scowls. He looks absurd, stuffed in the third row back. The lack of leg room means that his knees are practically in his face. 

Mick hadn’t complained when Sara instructed him to sit in the back row, and Amaya feels guilty that she let the team have their petty revenge for Mick’s betrayal. But, she reasons, it could have been much worse. 

Jax has his earbuds in and his eyes closed; whether he’s asleep or just ignoring the chaos in the van, Amaya doesn’t know. She doesn’t blame him either way. 

Mick shifts uneasily in his seat. He keeps sneaking glances at her, like he’s waiting for her to say something, maybe punch him like the rest of the team has. She keeps her gaze resolutely forward, expression stony. Mick expects rage, and she will not give it to him. 

When she’d seen him for the first time in Nathaniel’s basement hideout, she’d been so blinded by fury that she’d nearly kicked a support beam in half.

But now? Now she’s just tired. 

The brakes squeal as Sara takes a sharp right. Jax flies into Amaya, who in turn is flung against Mick. 

“You hit the curb,” Ray says helpfully. 

Rip looks like he’s about to fling himself out of the car. 

It takes Amaya a moment, head still spinning, when she remembers who she’s leaning on. She looks up. Mick is doing his absolute damndest to press himself against the side of the car, with diminishing returns. 

She rights herself, pretending to take no notice of his discomfort. She might be able to convince herself that it doesn’t affect her, but she can’t will away the slight tingle on her leg where their thighs are smushed together.

* * *

**4\. For Seduction**

As the crowd roars with applause, Amaya feels dizzy with adrenaline. She’d never - she’d wanted to go to Waterloo, originally. Battles were much more her speed. But Sara had insisted that she’d needed four to fill out the band, and Mick and Zari had categorically refused. 

So Amaya had reluctantly donned the costume, feeling for all the world like a clown. But then, as she’d started singing, and the crowd began cheering, everything had melted away. 

Sara, Ray, and Nathanial are all busy taking their bows, eating up the crowds adoration like they were born to do it. She spots Mick in the wings, dressed in his Napoleonic French uniform. He’s a bizarre figure in a place like this, but the stagehands pay him absolutely no mind. They must think he’s part of the show, she figures. 

Without really thinking about it, she notes that he does make a rather striking figure, in his Hessians and breeches that don’t leave much to the imagination. 

She slips offstage, something like that heady predator-feeling roiling within her. 

“Got the damn tape,” Mick grunts as she approaches. His eyes briefly take her up and down, then dart away, almost ashamed. She notices a slight color to his cheeks. Normally, she’d let him get away with it, both of them pretending like this  _ thing  _ between them didn’t exist. 

Instead, she takes a step into his personal space, her platform boots still not even taking her to eye level. It’s fine, though, as she’s pretty sure he has a spectacular view of her cleavage. 

She puts a hand on his arm, softly and deliberately. His eyes seek hers, confused and almost suspicious. The hand slides up his arm to his shoulder, and gently pulls him down.

She raises herself up on her toes as he acquiesces. She leans in until her mouth is right against his ear, and grins as a small shiver travels down his neck. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

**5\. For Love**

It’s dark outside- thunder rumbling and rain pattering against the windows. 

The golden light of the living room feels almost like it’s creating a protective sphere against the storm outside, fading gently into the darkness of their backyard through the sliding glass doors. 

She feels rather than sees Mick collapse beside her. She’d been working on a crossword, but the lull of the rain and her glass of wine had relaxed her into a state of semi-sleep, aware of the world but just barely. 

She presses into him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Girls go down easy?” she mumbles, and Mick huffs. 

“Esi wanted to stay up and read,” he replies, equally as soft, “but she went down eventually. Ami was still tuckered out from earlier.”

Amaya hums, and scoots herself closer, practically in his lap, draping herself on his shoulders. Mick wraps an easy arm around her waist, and begins to run his thumb over her back. 

Something in this golden moment feels like it will last forever, and she’s loathe to ruin it with words. Mick seems to share her feelings, and doesn’t try to initiate more, although it’s certainly on the table for later. 

Instead, they sit, and listen to the rain. 

**Author's Note:**

> [@zaritarazi](https://zaritarazi.tumblr.com) on tumblr asked: I saw you were doing a 5 times meme so VERY clearly i must ask mixen + huddled together in a small space
> 
> "small space" was taken liberally but I tried my best. In addition, the kid OCs at the end, Ami and Esi, are hers! You should go check out her tumblr and [podcast](https://soundcloud.com/legendsinreview) because she is just stellar all around.


End file.
